


A Little Bloom of Hope

by stonecoldhedwig



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/M, Florists, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonecoldhedwig/pseuds/stonecoldhedwig
Summary: It really was utterly ridiculous—James was working in a florist, and he had hayfever that seemed to get worse every year.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	A Little Bloom of Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prongsdamnyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongsdamnyou/gifts).



> Many thanks to the lovely prongsdamnyou for the prompt. 
> 
> You can find my tumblr post of this [here](https://stonecoldhedwig.tumblr.com/post/637608914774523905/i-like-this-prompt-suits-you-but-lmk-if-you-dont).

“Alrighty, so that’s a dozen white roses, the eucalyptus sprigs, and what else—oh! The gyp.” James looked up from his calculator and smiled at the middle-aged woman standing on the other side of the counter. “That’ll be twenty-eight fifty.”

The woman returned his smile, and held out a couple of notes. James reached out a hand to take them and—

_Sneezed._

The woman recoiled, naturally repulsed. James immediately began to apologise profusely, only for Sirius to swiftly elbow him out the way.

“Twenty quid, the eucalyptus is on us,” Sirius said smoothly, dealing with the transaction. The customer smiled, all but snatching the bouquet of flowers out of Sirius’ hands in exchange for a twenty-pound-note, before practically fleeing from the shop.

“Thank you!” James called after her weakly.

Sirius looked at him, incredulous. “Prongs, what the fuck? You’re still sneezing? I thought you went to get a prescription for those super strong antihistamines!”

“Yeah, but they give me the weirdest dreams. I had this awful one yesterday about how my uni professor Slughorn and I had to complete some kind of quest, but he kept turning into a lilac satin armchair. I can’t cope.”

“Pathetic,” snorted Sirius, but his tone was goodnatured. He turned and began to head into the back of the shop. “For that, you can clean the shears while Remus and I go fool around in the office…”

James threw a scrunched-up paper towel at Sirius’ retreating back and sighed, wiping his hands on his green apron. In Sirius’ defence, it really was utterly ridiculous—he was working in a florist, and he had hayfever that seemed to get worse every year. James, Remus and Sirius had been working in James’ mother’s flower shop every summer since they started university. They had a good time, the pay was decent, and every penny that they earned went into savings so that they could go on what they called their Grand Adventure after graduation. The allergies hadn’t been that bad at the start, but every year seemed to make them worse and worse.

James turned, about to fill the corner sink with water so that he could clean all the shears when he heard the bell ring to signal the shop door opening. He turned and _stopped_.

Standing in the shop was a girl. That much was obvious, of course, because James’ wasn’t actually so terrible with girls as his friends liked to think, and was actually capable of spotting one in the wild. This, though—this had to me more than a girl. She had a shock of red hair, pinned loosely back from her face, and James was sure he could call it cinnamon and russet and auburn and strawberry all at once. She was _mesmerising_.

“Hey,” the girl said, and James felt his mouth moving, but no sound came out. Even her voice sounded good.

The girl looked awkwardly at James, her smile slipping into more of a grimace. “Um, I’m looking for some flowers for my best friend. It’s her birthday.”

James found his voice, finally, although the words came out squeaky and strained. “Right!” He gestured towards the floral display. “What sort of thing were you looking for?”

“Something simple, I think.”

The two of them moved towards the display and James began to chatter. “I like the stocks—they’re simple, and they smell lovely. Although, we’re all out of the blue and I do personally find the pink a little garish. There are those alliums at the back—see those big purple coloured ones? They’re very nice; related to garlic and chives, although you wouldn’t guess.”

James chattered on, asking for more information and pointing out the different flowers he thought were appropriate. He might have hayfever, but he was also the son of a florist and a botanist, and James knew his stuff when it came to flowers. They discussed the merits of roses—too romantic, too cliche—versus hyacinths; and James tried desperately not to sneeze. He thought that his streaming eyes must look like he was getting emotional over the flowers, and cursed himself.

The girl smiled, listening politely. When James paused for breath, she gestured to a group of flowers that James had suggested. “Oh, the peonies are beautiful.”

“Yeah, they’re—they’re—“ James turned away and let out the most almighty sneeze. His eyes were streaming as he looked back at the girl and smiled apologetically. “God, I’m really sorry, I have terrible hay fever and it’s just playing up today.”

“Oh!” The girl’s eyes lit up. “I’m a medical student and I’m writing my dissertation on the management of allergies. You’d be an incredible case study!”

James grinned at her with a bemused look. “I’ve never heard anyone tell me I’d be an _incredible case study_ before. I must write that down and let my ex-girlfriends know…”

The girl let out a laugh—a full-bodied, genuine laugh that made something delicious and delighted bubble in James’ chest. “I do have a question, though,” she said. “Why the hell are you working in a florist if you’ve got such bad hayfever?”

James chuckled, looking down at his feet. “Yeah, it’s insane, I know. This is my mum’s shop—me and two of my friends work here during the uni breaks to earn some money for our big adventure after graduation. We want to go on tour with our band.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” The girl looked genuinely interested. She nodded towards the logo on James’ apron that read _Euphemia’s_. “So you’re Euphemia’s son?”

“James Potter, at your service.”

“Well, James Potter, I’m going to go for the peonies, I think.” The girl nodded towards the pink blooms that James had suggested. “They seem perfect.”

“Great!”

James busied himself with arranging the bouquet, taking longer than he usually would, and certainly taking more care. His mouth felt dry and he was furiously wracking his brains to try and think of things to say that would make the girl pause, stay a little while and talk with him. He already loved the sound of her voice; the light cadence of her words, the short snaps of her vowels. James could have listened to her talk all day.

Alas, nothing came to him, and after a couple more sneezes and an exchange of cash, James reluctantly handed over the bouquet.

“Thanks. Here—“ The girl reached out and snatched up the notepad and pen that were sticking out of James’ apron pocket. She scribbled something down and handed the paper back to James. “If you’re interested in being in part of my dissertation, you should text me. Thanks again for the help with the flowers—I think Marlene is going to love them.”

She turned to leave, and James glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand. Lily Evans, it said, with a heart over the I and a number below. _It’s now or never._ He looked back up again, his face breaking into an earnest grin and butterflies fluttering in the low part of his stomach. Some small bloom of courage flowered within him, and he decided to act.

“Hey,” called James, and Lily’s hand stilled on the door handle. She turned back, the sunlight catching the copper and auburn in her hair, illuminating the smattering of freckles across her nose and those green eyes that glittered like cut gems.

“Yeah?” she asked, and James could have sworn that there was something hopeful in her tone.

“You know this case study?” He waved the piece of paper. “Do you think it could happen over drinks?”

“Oh,” Lily breathed, and beamed. “Yeah, I think it could.”


End file.
